


Desuetude

by ShariDeschain



Series: Batdictionary [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 19:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13554138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShariDeschain/pseuds/ShariDeschain
Summary: Desuetude(n) a state of disuse.Or, the one where Dick is always taking care of his brothers but then there's one time they have to take care of him.





	Desuetude

Whispers. Whispers all around him. Whispers in his ears, whispers in his head, whispers under his skin. Whispers everywhere.

Then, a hand.

“Don’t touch me.”

He wanted to shout, ended up whispering as well.

Doesn’t matter.

The hand is withdrawn, the whispers continue. Dick raises his eyes, looks around, catches his own reflection on the glass surface of a display case, the one with his Batman costume. All grey and black. And that hated cape. That heavy cowl. He looks at his own face reflected above it over the glass and feels like he's the remnants of a ghost. There’s blood in his eyes, he notices then. Broken vessels drowning the familiar baby-blue irises in a sea of red. He feels like a ghost, but looks like a feral animal.

“Grayson.”

Oh.

His head snaps towards the voice. Damian’s still in his Robin uniform, but he removed his domino at some point tonight, and his eyes are big, and uncertain, and more than a little scared. But the boy still reaches a hand towards him. It’s small and it’s shaking, but it’s there. Always there.

It wasn’t the hand that tried to touch him before, for which he’s grateful. He spent a lot of time working through the kid’s barrier and past traumas just to make him understand that family’s touch is always welcomed, and it would’ve been a real shame for Dick to reject it like that.

“Grayson”, Damian calls to him again. He takes a step towards him, only to be stopped by Tim’s hand on his shoulder.

Oh.

Tim’s there too.

Dick feels guilty for not noticing him right away. Or, more specifically, for only noticing him when he stood next to Damian, as if otherwise Tim would've never catched his attention. And he knows that, if he knew what Dick’s thinking right now, Tim would only sneer at him. Because he knows Tim thinks that that’s _really_ the case, that he believes Dick’s attention to be so focussed on Damian that he never sees any other of his siblings anymore. Which is not true. Dick always sees all of them. They’re always there, in his mind, both as a close comfort and as a serious cause of concern.

Whispers again. Tim doesn’t have to crouch beside Damian to speak into his ear like Dick, and Jason, and Bruce, and Alfred and almost everyone else in their family would’ve to do. He only has to bend a knee and tilt his head to be at the kid's height, and for some reason Dick finds it funny, so he laughs and laughs and laughs as the whispers become more urgent, and Damian's eyes wider with confusion, and Tim's grip on Robin's small shoulder tighter and more determined to keep the boy away from Dick.

A hand grabs his elbow, breaking his laughter. It’s large, and strong, but almost gentle, in a way Dick’s almost familiar with. He still snaps at the unexpected touch because it’s not nice to grab people like that when they already asked you not to do it. He backtracks, so that the hand and the body attached to it are forced to follow, then spins around, ready to kick. Someone shouts behind him, but Dick doesn’t listen. His opponent does, though, and that’s probably why Dick ends up with his face slammed against the cold glass of the display case and his arm twisted behind his back.

“Stop”, Jason growls, before Dick has time to retaliate. And then, whispering as well, he adds, only for him to hear: “Just stop. You’re scaring the kids.”

Dick stops, stilling himself in Jason’s hold. He breathes, and the glass fogs up under his cheek.

Oh.

 _Funny you should say that_ , he wants to answer then, after the initial shock. _Since you used to be the one who scared them the most._ Not that Tim or Damian would ever say that (or admit, in Damian’s case), but Dick knows anyway. Because the Red Hood used to scare him too. Not Jason per se, not his return. But what he had become. What they made him become. Even now, now that they have somehow managed to leave behind almost all the anger and the hatred and some of the misunderstandings, it still haunts him that they ( _they_ , not just Bruce) managed to fuck things up so badly to have a Robin drop the Batman’s legacy to pick up the Joker’s and become the Red Hood.

But Jason doesn’t need to know that. Because Jason’s past that now. Jason is either the little menace in a Robin costume that used to bug him at every chance he got, or the man with the domino mask under his helmet that pretends not to care about any of them only to always lend a hand when the hand is needed. Even - especially, maybe - when the hand is needed in the form of a fist.

He feels the urge to laugh again.

“Sorry”, Dick manages to answer instead, and the voice comes out rough and almost choked, but at least it comes out. “Sorry. What happened?”

Feeling him more present now, Jason loosens his grip on him, allowing Dick to turn towards him and their two younger brothers still standing not that far away from them, still observing.

“Joker venom”, Jason explains and there’s something tight in his voice, something Dick doesn’t like. “One of the crates we retrieved from the docks was filled with it. You must’ve triggered it while we were fighting his men. We found you like this and dragged you back to the cave.”

Dick doesn’t remember any of it. And he doesn’t know what that _like this_ means, but by the look in Tim’s and Damian’s eyes and the frown on Jason's forehead is not something good.

“Okay”, he smiles anyway, his lips only a little bit quivering. “I’m sorry”, he repeats again even though he doesn’t know what he’s truly sorry for, if for being sloppy on the job, or for having them see him like this. For scaring them instead of protecting them. “I’m fine now”, he lies.

The hand still on his shoulder squeezes him a little tighter.

“Just calm down, Dick”, Jason answers with a sigh that is almost a warning. “Calm down and let us take care of you for once, okay?”

Dick looks at Damian and Tim again. They both nod at him, and this time, when Damian tries to step towards him, Tim follows him. Dick relaxes and smiles again. Less fake, now.

“Yeah”, he answers, gently grabbing Jason’s hand to support himself. “Yeah, okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr prompt](https://unavenged-robin.tumblr.com/post/170430224158/i-wish-you-would-write-a-fic-where-dick-is-always).


End file.
